


when time allows

by howellz



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Tour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 06:43:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15407262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howellz/pseuds/howellz
Summary: a lazy, rainy day on the tourbus





	when time allows

There’s a bug sitting on the window of the tour bus. Phil’s been staring at it for probably too long, but it’s the dreamy, timeless sort of day where it’s hard to tell the difference between ten minutes and two hours. They don’t have a show today, just hours on the road to the next city, and it’s not the sort of day where he feels like getting anything done either.

There are some days, show days, where everything is a rush, and there are some days on the road that feel like a rush anyways. Even when they’re not performing, they have things to arrange and venues to contact and occasionally stops at various locations where they pretend to only be tourists for a few hours. But today everything feels a bit hazy, like despite the bus currently traveling at seventy miles per hour, they’re still moving in slow motion.

Tomorrow morning, life will resume as has become normal. Phil will wake up on a tour with some of the best people he’s had the privilege of working with, they’ll drive past more foreign locations that will either be fabulously new and interesting or fabulously boring, he’ll update his Instagram story, and he’ll respond to some of the emails he’s been putting off for a day. But sometimes it’s nice to be able to ignore most of the world for a few hours, and just relax.

Phil stares at the bug. It’s absolutely pouring out. The sky is gray and colorless, unlike the many hot, hot days of sun they’ve seen so far in America, and the rain has been going for hours. But for some reason this one bug hasn’t fallen off the window yet. He leans closer, because it doesn’t look like anything he recognizes from home, and then pulls away, remembering once they’re only a glass panel apart that he doesn’t particularly like bugs.

Next to him on the couch, Phil’s phone lays untouched, as it has for some time. He’d love to be able to say that he’s taking a few hours off social media on this lazy day, but it wouldn’t be true. He’s been scrolling through Twitter and Tumblr on his laptop on-and-off all afternoon, in the least committed way possible - not posting or tweeting anything himself, just catching up on everything else. There’s something about being on his laptop rather than his phone which makes it feel more acceptable to spend hours staring at a screen. It also makes it easier to avoid socialization, which is a bonus he won’t turn down right now.

There’s an unread text from his mother on his phone which he read and didn’t respond to. As much as he loves her, sometimes it’s nice to take a few hours without carrying on a text conversation. He’ll respond later, but for now he’ll leave it be.

Somewhere between a rest stop that they don’t stop at and a particularly long stretch of creepy, semi-abandoned looking billboards, Dan wanders into the lounge area, a container of take-away from the last time they stopped to eat at a real restaurant in his hands. He sits next to Phil on the couch, and holds out a fork. “Want some?”

“Sure.” Phil isn’t that hungry, really, but he’ll regret in a few hours if he lets Dan eat the good leftovers without him. Besides, he’d rather sit on the small tour bus couch, if it can even be truly considered a couch, with Dan than by himself. 

As both him and Dan consider themselves introverts, they both love the few opportunities they get on this trip to sit quietly without having to socialize. But Dan doesn’t really count as socialization to Phil, not really, and he knows Dan would say the same about him. He may be ignoring texts and emails and even getting up and moving to another room, but sitting with Dan is basically still sitting alone, just more complete, and better. 

They eat in silence, sharing the styrofoam container of pasta, and Phil watches as Dan scrolls through his phone half-heartedly. Knowing someone for nine years, sharing a space with them and traveling with them all the time means that at a certain point, you know them as well as you know yourself. Phil can tell by the way Dan’s sitting, not fully slouched but not really in a committed position either, as well as by the only-mildly disinterested look on his face, that Dan’s headspace is in the same place as Phil’s. Tired, lazy, but fine with it, because some days are naturally meant to be like that.

It’s nice, Phil thinks, to know at times like this that Dan and him are really that synced up. They aren’t always, of course - there are days where they’re on completely different emotional pages, and that’s fine. As much as they’re innately attuned to each other’s feelings, there’s no such thing as a relationship where both people are on the exact same line of the exact same page all the time. But today they are, and Phil won’t lie. It’s nice.

The rain suddenly starts to pick up a bit more, and after several minutes of hard, sharp drops hitting the window, Phil remembers the bug that had survived the first few hours of the drive. He checks the window, but there’s no trace of it still there. He wonders if it fell off when the rain got too much, or if it chose to leave on its own, which doesn’t really matter but the beauty of nobody telling you to go do something is that, sometimes, you can waste time on things that just don’t matter.

Eventually, Dan moves so that he’s half-laying on the couch, as much as it’s possible to lay on a four-foot couch when there’s two six-foot people on it. His hair is extra curly today, which is a side effect of bad weather that Phil’s always liked and that Dan used to hate and now doesn’t particularly care about either way. He plays with a few pieces of Dan’s hair absentmindedly, just running his fingers through the edges and unknotting the pieces stuck together by the humidity and the rain. 

Dan barely reacts to the motion, but after a few moments, he lazily moves his hand to rest lightly over Phil’s free one. Phil doesn’t feel like moving or stopping, so he sits there, continuing to play with Dan’s hair while Dan continues slowly, one-handedly, scrolling through his phone. 

They still have another month left on tour, give or take. It’ll be hectic and fast and full of people - so they take this moment, and appreciate it. They sit, and Phil watches the rain and the highway and the cars full of people with their own busy lives outside his window, and he appreciates this quiet, peaceful, timeless moment sitting alone doing nothing with the only person he’d be willing to do any of this with.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @howellz uwu


End file.
